


memories that might not have happened

by verbose_vespertine



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic (Video Games), Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Atmena "Mena" Jenkari'uul (original character), Canon-Typical Violence, Cassija "Sija" Solborne (original character), Cognizant Revan, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kestrel Fortuna (original character), Minor Character Death, Nizuvhi "Zuvi" Kenno (original character), Quinncident, Slow Burn, THAT choice in kotfe, Vero'razimiri'vosis (original character), bisexual Revan, canon typical idiocy for the smuggler, himbo riggs, khem val and darth zash in their get-along body, quinncident aftermath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 14,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbose_vespertine/pseuds/verbose_vespertine
Summary: I made it through 17 days of Fictober in 2019  before I felt like I was going to die. Here are 17 short fics featuring: my Rattataki Sith Inquisitor, my Pureblood Sith Warrior, my Twi'lek Jedi Consular, my Chiss Imperial Agent, my Mirialan Smuggler, and my version of Revan. There's a lot of angst, a bit of fluff, and a lot of my OCs being real dumb. Hope you enjoy!
Relationships: Female Imperial Agent | Cipher Nine/Watcher Two | Shara Jenn, Female Revan/Bastila Shan, Female Sith Warrior/Jaesa Willsaam, Lana Beniko/Female Sith Inquisitor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	1. it'll be fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #1: It'll be fun, trust me  
> Starring: My Sith Inquisitor, Sija, Ashara, and Andronikos

Ashara Zavros watched with a mix of horror and fascination as the Sith she had met earlier that day attacked Masters Ryen and Ocera. The Sith did not touch her lightsaber during the battle; purple lightning burst from her hands at both Masters at once, causing them to double over in pain. The Sith’s companion, a swarthy man with a blaster on each hip, stood back several paces with his arms crossed, keeping his eyes on Ashara - as though he already knew the Sith would win, and just wanted to be sure Ashara didn’t try to intervene. 

She stared in stunned silence as both Masters fell. The Sith stared back at her, as if expecting something.

“You killed them!” Ashara shook her head at the stupidity of her observation.

“They did attack me first.” The Sith responded with a shrug.

Ashara clapped both of her hands to her face and exhaled sharply in frustration. “Ugh! This is all my fault for trusting a Sith!”

The Sith shrugged again, with a hint of a smirk. “Will you just summon the ghost for me now?”

Ashara clenched her fists and suppressed the urge to scream at the Sith. She knelt and summoned her ancestor’s ghost. Almost immediately, Kalatosh Zavros’s ghost appeared before her, angry as ever, railing at Ashara for disturbing him again. Ashara rolled her eyes and sat back on her heels, well accustomed to the ghost’s anger.

However, Kalatosh’s tirade was interrupted by a man in Sith trooper armor flanked by two guards walking up and applauding mockingly, thanking the Sith for clearing out the Enclave.

“Oh, you have got to be kriffing kidding me.” The Sith put her hands on her temples before turning to face the man. “Elios, if this is what I think it is, you really ought to know that I don’t take kindly to being betrayed.”

Ashara and Kalatosh both looked on with interest, Kalatosh’s diatribe momentarily forgotten.

“So sorry, Lord Kallig, but Darth Thanaton has made me an exceptionally good offer. He’s going to make me a Lord, and all I have to do is execute you. You should know I do regret this.”

The Sith tipped her head back to sigh dramatically, and before any of the three men had even finished drawing their blasters, she unleashed the largest storm of Force lightning Ashara had ever seen. Ashara, Kalatosh, and even the Sith’s companion all recoiled from the men’s short-lived screams, the faint crackling sound that remained even after the lightning was gone, and the smell of ozone permeating the room.

The Sith turned back toward Ashara and the ghost and put on what would have been a sweet smile, had Ashara not just watched her casually murder three men without breaking a sweat or even moving towards them. “Now then, where were we?”

Kalatosh’s ghost, no longer distracted, returned to his anger at being disturbed and resumed yelling at Ashara, who tried reasoning with him and pleading that the Sith before him needed to speak with him. 

Kalatosh continued to fume. “No, you must die.”

The Sith stepped between Ashara and Kalatosh, surprising both of them. “There’s no need for that.”

Ashara’s mouth fell open slightly as the Sith’s eyes glowed purple and Kalatosh became visibly calmer. The Sith’s companion, whom Ashara had not noticed had walked up beside her, reached over and gently tapped the underside of her chin to close her mouth. She glared at him fiercely, causing him to throw up both hands in mock surrender and back away with a chuckle. Ashara turned her attention back to Kalatosh and the Sith; Kalatosh was asking the Sith what she wanted that was so important. The Sith said something about “binding” Kalatosh, who all but jumped at the chance to leave the Enclave.

The Sith reached out toward Kalatosh, her hands glowing with a bright purple light that soon enveloped both her and Kalatosh, before the ghost disappeared, leaving wisps of purple and black smoke; the Sith fell to her knees.

“What the hell was that, Sith?” Ashara demanded.

“Cassija.” The Sith pulled herself to her feet.

“What?” Ashara blinked, not understanding if the Sith had just named a ritual, or cursed.

“It’s my name. Call me that, or just Sija.” The Sith - Sija - sighed. “Just stop calling me me ‘Sith.’ You say it with such disdain. And I took your ancestor’s power.”

“What happens now?” Ashara almost hesitated to ask.

Sija dusted herself before addressing Ashara. “I’m your Master now; you come with me.”

“But I’m not a Sith.” Ashara knew before the words left her mouth that it was pointless to argue. “Why should I go with you?”

A genuine smile spread across Sija’s face. “It’ll be fun. Trust me.”

“I guess I don’t have anywhere else to go. I can’t go back to the Jedi after this.” Ashara took a deep, slow breath. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

Sija’s companion shook his head as he led the way out of the room, “There’s the easy way, the hard way, and then there’s your way.”

“But you do have to admit, Andronikos, my way _is_ the fun way.” Sija’s laugh was surprisingly sweet-sounding.

Ashara looked between the Sith Lord and the man she had identified as Andronikos, desperately hoping she had not made the wrong choice, and followed them to their ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	2. just stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #8: "Can you stay?"  
> Starring: My Sith Warrior, Mena, Jaesa Willsaam  
> Featuring: The rest of the Sith Warrior crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I've written about twelve versions of this now, and I'm not happy with any of them, but [shrug emote])

When Quinn returned alone to the _Fury_ from the transponder station, Lieutenant Pierce was the first on his feet and the first with a hand on his weapon. Broonmark was quick to follow, always ready for a good fight. Quinn stopped halfway between the ship’s exit and the doorway to the small cockpit, holding his hands up to his chest with his palms out to show deference to Pierce and Broonmark - or at least to their superior weaponry. Vette put a steadying hand on Pierce’s arm, and Jaesa stepped between the Talz and the Captain.

“Where is she? Where’s Mena?” It was Vette who broke the tense silence in the main cabin of the ship.

“Lord Atmena said she needed a moment and told me to go on ahead. She was right behind me. I promise you, she’s fine.” Quinn slowly lowered his hands, keeping an eye on Pierce’s.

As if on cue, they heard the heavy thudding of _Fury_ ’s outer door locks disengaging, a gentle thud before the locks re-engaged, and then soft footsteps ascending toward them.

Mena, Lord Atmena, emerged before them looking every bit the part of the Emperor’s Wrath. Her golden eyes seemed to glow, as if radiating heat.

“My Lord, if I may—“ Quinn was cut off when Mena stopped and stared unblinkingly at him for several seconds that felt like years.

“Mena,” Vette, with one hand still on Pierce, reached out for Mena as she marched resolutely past her crew and wordlessly entered her quarters. Everyone braced for the door to slam, and almost felt more surprised by the gentle click of the lock.

All eyes turned accusatorially toward Captain Quinn, but he had disappeared into the cockpit. Vette and Pierce descended onto him as he began the sequence to disengage the _Fury_ from the transponder station’s airlock.

“What did you do to her, Quinn?” Pierce demanded, looming over him.

“Lieutenant Pierce, for one thing, I don’t appreciate your tone - you would do well to remember your place. For another, I didn’t _do_ anything to Lord Atmena, nor would I ever. She is simply processing a lot of things right now.” Quinn answered with a measured tone, not looking up from his console.

“Oh come on! That’s bantha shit, and you know it.” Vette pounded a fist on the terminal.

Quinn flinched. “Vette, if you can’t control yourself, you really shouldn’t be in here.”

“All due respect, _Captain_ , but if _you_ can’t control yourself, you really shouldn’t be on this crew.” Pierce put a heavy hand on the back of Quinn’s chair and spun him around to face them. “Now I don’t really think you could have done anything to physically hurt our Mena, but you did _something_.”

“You don’t _have_ to tell us what, but you _should_ , because we’re gonna find out anyway.” Vette leered down at him, leaned down to inspect Quinn’s face, then noticed a bruise blooming under his collar.

As Pierce and Vette simultaneously straightened and turned to leave the room, the holocommunicator in Vette’s pocket chirped. She pulled it out and activated it, and Mena’s grainy image materialized.

“Who’ve you got with you, Vette?” Mena’s voice was flat.

“Pierce and Quinn, why?” Vette nodded toward each of the men in turn. “Mena, I—“

“Quinn, plot our course for Corellia. Pierce, I need you and Broonmark ready to help take out the assassins that have been sent for Darth Vowrawn. Vette, I need you and Jaesa ready to help me actually get into Vowrawn’s safehouse to protect him.”

“Right away, My Lord.” Quinn turned back to the console to input hyperdrive coordinates.

“Of course, My Lord.” Pierce glowered at Quinn’s back before leaving the room.

“Mena?” Vette stared at the Sith’s flickering image with concern.

“Vette, I’m fine. Please prepare for when we arrive on Corellia. And Vette?”

Vette stepped away from Quinn with the holo, and spoke in quick, hushed tones. “Yes, Mena, tell me what’s going on, please—“

“Vette, you and Lieutenant Pierce are to _leave Captain Quinn alone_. Do you understand?”

A long pause filled the air.

“Vette?”

“No, I _don’t_ understand, but I’ll do it.” Vette sighed. She could have sworn she heard a soft chuckle from Quinn that made her want to throw the holocommunicator at his head.

“Thank you.” Mena’s image flickered away.

Back in the main cabin, Jaesa stood outside of Mena’s quarters leaning against the locked door. She knocked softly.

“Master? It’s Jaesa. Will you open the door please?” After getting no response, she added gently, “I can tell that you aren’t okay, Master, I can feel your pain.”

When the lock clicked open, Jaesa hesitated, but leaned into the room. “Is that an invitation, Master? I don’t want to assume.”

A sound that might have been a growl came from somewhere within the room before Jaesa heard Mena mumble that she should come in. Jaesa stepped timidly into Mena’s quarters, finding them dim, lit only by a brazier on the small altar beside the desk where orange flames danced. Once the door closed behind her, she heard the lock engage. At first, Jaesa couldn’t see Mena in the room. After her eyes adjusted to the dark, she spotted the small figure sitting on the bed, tucked tight against the headboard. Mena may have been the shortest member of the crew, but due to her presence, Jaesa had never thought of her as “small.” But seeing her like this, curling in on herself and radiating anger, Jaesa felt that “small” accurately described her.

“Oh, Master. What happened?” Without really thinking about it, Jaesa climbed onto the bed, kneeling beside Mena and wrapping her arms around the Sith Lord.

With a soft sigh, Mena relaxed into Jaesa’s arms, pressing her face into Jaesa’s neck. Jaesa shivered when one of Mena’s bony brow ridges scraped across her throat - it wasn’t painful, but it surprised her. She _had_ often found herself wondering if the sharp-looking protrusions on Mena’s face were hard or soft, and now she had her answer.

“My Lord,” Jaesa tried again. “What happened?”

Mena pulled back and shook her head. “Don’t call me that. Ever again. Please.”

Jaesa nodded. “You’re avoiding the question. You’re not going to answer, are you?”

Again, Mena shook her head.

“What do you need?”

Mena looked taken-aback, as though that was a question no one had ever asked her. “Can you stay? Just stay here with me for a while so I can rest?”

“Oh, Mena, of course.”

Jaesa had read Mena before and been confused by what she saw, but had never gotten the sense that Mena was hiding anything from her. As Jaesa stretched out on the bed and felt Mena curl against her, tucking herself as close to Jaesa as possible, she realized Mena hadn’t ever been truly open before. Jaesa saw something new in Mena that she wasn’t ready to name.

She fell asleep with Mena’s head on her chest, breathing in the scent of Mena’s hair. But Jaesa woke to find that she had rolled onto her side, facing the door, with Mena behind her, limbs wrapped haphazardly around her. One of Mena’s arms crossed her chest like a bandolier, and one of Mena’s legs was slung over her hip. Mena’s face was pressed into her back. Still half-sleeping, Mena stretched her neck and tilted her head back, which dragged the firm growths on either side of her chin along Jaesa’s spine, drawing out a noise partway between a moan and a whimper.

Jaesa stifled the sound by biting her lip, hard. “Mena?” She shifted to look over her shoulder at the Sith Lord and tried to squirm out of her grasp.

Mena briefly gripped Jaesa tighter, pressed her forehead to Jaesa’s back, and might have whispered “thank you,” but Jaesa couldn’t be entirely sure as it was muffled by clothing and blankets, before releasing her and climbing out of bed to prepare herself for war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	3. I can't come back to you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #14: "I can't come back."  
> Starring: Sija, Andronikos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (some dialogue taken directly from the “Pirate’s Life” Post-KotET Alliance Recruitment mission. I picked 3678 for the Fleet Ship number because Nik was apparently born in 3678 BBY, and I wanted the ship to have a number)

When the alert from Lana pops up on Sija’s datapad - raids on Eternal Fleet ships - she immediately drops everything else. Sure, there are plenty of people and entities in the galaxy with motive to attack and raid Fleet supply ships. But Lana’s message specifically mentions that a GEMINI Captain apprehended a lone pirate attempting to board her ship. Sija can think of only one pirate brave - or stupid - enough to board a GEMINI ship alone. When she requisitions a shuttle to travel to Fleet Ship 3678, Lana offers to go with her. Lana can feel the tangled knot of Sija’s emotions in the pit of her own stomach, but she can’t quite read them.

“No, stay. I won’t be gone long.” Sija kisses Lana’s forehead and gently squeezes both of her hands.

On the short flight to the Fleet ship, Sija keeps repeating to herself: _it’s_ got _to be him. It_ can’t _be him_. As soon as she steps onto Ship 3678 and is led toward the holding cells, she can hear a gravelly voice hurling insults at an increasingly frustrated-sounding Hylo Visz. Sija stops a few paces shy of the door to the cell where the crew is keeping the captured pirate with her hands steepled in front of her face, taking a deep breath as the prisoner demands to speak to the “son of a Hutt in charge.”

“That would be me.”

It takes a good deal of effort for Sija not to crack a smile at the brief look of panic on Andronikos’s face when he sees her; it’s almost as amusing as the time she had introduced herself to a contact as “Cassija Revel” after he proposed to her, and Nik had blanched, excusing himself and choking out “ _We did not discuss this_.”

Instead, Sija asks Andronikos for an explanation of his attacks on her ships, and he makes a show of detailing the story of paying back the former Empress for all of her attacks on innocent worlds. Sija rolls her eyes and turns to Hylo, who has been staring Andronikos down with a raised eyebrow.

“You can go, Hylo, I’ve got this.”

“You sure, Commander? I _really_ don’t mind beating this one up if you need.”

Sija shakes her head gently. “Thank you, Hylo.”

When Hylo is gone, Sija sits on the small bench at the back of the room. Andronikos paces until he is sure Hylo is out of earshot, then faces Sija. “Okay, fine, I lied.”

“You think?” Sija tilts her head up at him. “You’re a terrible liar, Nik.”

“Dammit, Sith, let me talk.” Andronikos resumes his pacing. “Years ago, I got a tip from a Zakuulan refugee that you’d been hauled away on an Eternal Fleet ship. I’ve been tearing the Fleet apart looking for you ever since. Nobody steals my girl and lives.”

Sija squeezes her eyes shut and bites her lower lip before responding. “Andronikos--”

“I told you a long time ago, we’re in each other’s orbits until the stars go cold.” Andronikos stops his pacing and kneels in front of Sija, reaching up for her hands. “I _never_ stopped looking for you. We’re forever, Sith.”

Sija allows him to take her hands in his but doesn’t meet his eyes. “Andronikos, we can’t rekindle this. I can’t come back to you like that.”

Andronikos drops her hands and stands, resumes his pacing. “So I’m the only one with feelings here?”

“That’s not it, and you know it.” Sija finally matches his gaze. “I care about you, Nik. But things have... changed.”

“You moved on.” His voice is flat, defeated. After a pause, he scoffs. “It’s her isn’t it - Lana?”

Sija can’t stop the small smile from appearing on her face at the thought of Lana, even under the circumstances, as she sighs and nods. “You knew about her when I met her. You encouraged me to pursue her. You knew I fell in love with her.”

“Well, yeah, but she kept _leaving_ you.”

“Nik, the last time I saw you, I told you to leave and to get our crew to safety and I made a decision that I thought was going to kill me. And I made peace with that. And then I didn’t die, but I might as well have.”

“Sith, you don’t…” He starts to reach for her hands again, but instead just puts his hands on his hips and steps back to let her finish.

“When I came out of the carbonite after-” Sija interrupts herself by drawing in a sharp breath. “- _five years_ , it wasn’t you, it was her.”

They stare at each other in silence for a long moment.

“Well, I’m still joining your Alliance. You can’t just get rid of me.”

Sija laughs, burying her face behind one of her hands. “I wouldn’t expect to.”

When Sija rises from the bench, they stand awkwardly for a few moments. Andronikos, scratches the back of his neck before asking, “Is it too much to ask if I can at least hug you?”

Sija shakes her head and steps forward into his arms. Even after years apart, even with pain and uneasiness separating them for so long, they still fit together very naturally.

“Stars, Andronikos, have you _bathed_ in the last six years?” Sija pulls back from the embrace and grins.

Andronikos feigns indignance, but punches her arm - and not gently.

“You know, I am your commanding officer again, there could be consequences for that.” Sija reprimands gently as they walk together out of the cell. “And Hylo did offer to rough you up for me.”

“Offer still stands, Commander.” Hylo smiles.

“Not necessary at the moment. Hylo, I’d like for you to officially meet the newest member of the Eternal Alliance: Andronikos Revel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	4. talk about it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #20: "You could talk about it, you know."  
> Starring: Mission Vao, Bastila Shan, angst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Companion piece to One Week and There is Only Passion, which you do not have to read, just an FYI, in fact, please don't, just read this on its own)

Bastila feels it in so many ways when Malak’s life ends. Beyond just the wrenching ache of a powerful Force-user falling in battle, she feels Revan’s pain and regret at being the one to end him pulsing through their bond; it stabs repeatedly into Bastila’s gut, twisting there the way that Revan’s emotions are twisting and roiling in hers. But there’s another layer still - however fraught and tenuous her apprenticeship had been, and however short, Malak _had_ mentored her.

In those few days, she had forged a connection with him. He had taught her more about her own power in that time than any of her previous Masters. The sudden severing of that connection is much more painful than Bastila had expected it to be. 

However, she does not have the time nor the luxury to deal with that pain. There is still a battle waging above them, and she can still use her Meditation for the Republic and Jedi forces for at least a little while longer. The Star Forge is rapidly losing structural integrity - the groaning noises from below, metal scraping against metal, the fact that production has ground to a halt and no further droid forces are amassing all indicate that the factory is entering its death throes. Hopefully Revan will make it back to the _Ebon Hawk_ before the station’s last breath.

Bastila spares one last moment to reach through her bond to Revan _please hurry come back to me I need you_ before returning all of her energy to her Battle Meditation. Now that the Star Forge is no longer producing new ships or weapons, and now that Revan and Malak’s fight is over and Bastila can focus her Meditation solely on the troops, the Republic ships gain a clear advantage. Over her shoulders, Carth and Canderous both whoop and cheer as Empire ships begin to retreat.

Admiral Dodonna’s voice cuts in on Carth’s comm. “Carth, the Star Forge is going down. You and your crew need to get out of there!”

“Working on it, Admiral.” Carth shuts off the commlink, knowing that another call like that before Revan has rejoined them will only get him yelled at by Bastila.

“Revan _is_ coming, right, Princess?” Canderous looks down at Bastila with uncharacteristic concern.

“Yes.” Bastila is on her feet and rushing to the blast door as it opens. 

As Revan limps through, Bastila catches her, holding her close. Revan lets exhaustion take over and crumples into the smaller woman’s arms, nearly taking them both to the floor.

Bastila takes Revan’s face in her hands, holds her at arm’s length, starts looking over her wounds. “Revan, it’s over - you did it.”

“I couldn’t save him.” Revan presses her forehead to Bastila’s and starts to shake.

“Revan, no one expected you to.” Bastila holds Revan’s shoulders to steady her. “I’m so proud of you for trying though.”

“Okay, as touching as all of this is, _we need to go_!” Carth interrupts from behind Bastila, placing a hand gently on her shoulder.

Canderous appears behind Revan and offers an arm to help her walk to the _Ebon Hawk_. “Yeah, don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this place is coming down, and it ain’t waiting on your tearful reunion.”

Carth visually confirms that everyone is onboard before rushing to the cockpit where Zaalbar and T3-M4 have been keeping the _Hawk_ primed and ready. As the _Ebon Hawk_ leaves the hanger, it is clear that the Star Forge is defeated. Small explosions tear apart the spires, and the factory no longer maintains its own gravity. When they join the Republic fleet, which has retreated a safe distance to watch the Star Forge collapse in on itself, pieces falling toward the surface of Lehon, Admiral Dodonna and Master Vandar appear on the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s holoterminal. After a brief reprimand for cutting their exit so close, Dodonna thanks them for their service to the Republic.

Revan leans heavily on Bastila once the holograms flicker off, grimacing and holding her side. Bastila helps Revan to the medbay and eases her onto the gurney in the middle of the room. Jolee and Mission both follow, but Bastila stops them at the door. “Thank you, but I’ll let you know if I need help.”

Bastila returns to Revan’s bedside once the old man and the Twi’lek are gone and pulls her robe open, revealing deep bruises blooming across her torso. She winces involuntarily as her hands hover over Revan’s ribcage on her right side where the bruising seems to be the worst.

“Malak landed on me.” Revan offers. “He’s heavier than I remember.”

“Don’t joke.” Bastila chides, placing a hand on Revan’s cheek. “Where else are you hurt?”

It doesn’t take long for Bastila to find blood in Revan’s hairline from a pommel strike, and burns on Revan’s arms from lightning that she _mostly_ redirected. 

“Hold still so I can heal you.”

“Bas, you aren’t a healer. You’ve only healed me once, and that was—“

“Yes, I know,” Bastila interrupts as she rests her hands gently on Revan’s chest. “when I kept you alive and forged our bond.”

“Yes, and that nearly killed you, if I remember correctly.” Revan moves to sit up, but Bastila has already begun.

“Only _nearly_. Now hold still. This may hurt.” Bastila closes her eyes to concentrate.

Revan’s eyes widen as dark red tendrils of energy surround Bastila’s hands before spreading outward. She gasps as the tendrils sink into her. The feeling that follows is warm, and yes, there is pain as the torn muscles, split skin, bruised tissues, and cracked ribs mend themselves - but it is not entirely unpleasant. Revan watches Bastila’s face with concern before reaching into their bond to confirm: she is channeling great anger.

Bastila opens her eyes and lifts her hands. “I don’t think I was able to heal everything, so you’ll still need kolto and rest.”

“Bas?”

“Kolto and rest.” Bastila repeats. “If it’s okay, I’m going to ask Jolee to look in on you. I need rest too. We can talk later.”

—

Days later, Revan has mostly recovered, but she and Bastila have still not had their promised talk. Bastila hardly speaks with anyone. It is Mission who finally tires of the tension on the ship and finds Bastila in the cargo hold where she is meditating.

“Hey, B?” Mission asks from the doorway.

Bastila doesn’t answer, but her shoulders droop, and after a moment she looks up. Mission crosses to her and sits in front of her.

“I am gonna level with you, B.” Mission puts her elbows on her knees and rests her chin in her hands. “Things are _majorly_ awkward around here lately, and something is _clearly_ going on with you. I know we’re not _close_ , but whatever it is, you could talk about it, you know?”

Bastila’s brow furrows as she considers Mission. She bites her lip, worrying that if she opens her mouth, she will break the dam and tell Mission _everything_ \- everything that happened to her in the Rakatan temple, every terrible thought she had about Revan while she was there, every terrible thing she _did_ while she was there, every detail about her fall, every explanation she owes Revan.

Then she opens her mouth anyway and begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	5. secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #18: "Secrets? I love secrets."  
> Starring: Sija, Ashara, Andronikos  
> Featuring: Talos, Khem Val and Zash in their get-along body, Toovee being not-at-all-suspicious

Sija returned to the _Fury_ in a huff, leaning heavily against the door after the locks engaged and pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes. Her head pounded, as it had been ever since her disastrous encounter with Thanaton in his meditation chamber - well, the _Force ghosts’_ encounter with Thanaton, rather, she thought ruefully. It had been Darth Andru, Lord Ergast, Kalatosh, and Horak-mul who had clashed with Thanaton, not her, and their “fun” had nearly killed her. But even with the blinding headache the ghosts had been giving her, Sija’s trip into Thanaton’s private library had at least turned up potential leads for what to do next.

As she walked onto the ship proper, Toovee greeted Sija, inquiring whether she needed anything - “A hot meal, perhaps? Conversation? Foot massage? Just say the word.” - and she narrowed her eyes at him skeptically. The droid was always cheerful, but she made a mental note to check his logs to see if he had been tampered with recently. He had never offered a foot massage before…

Glancing around the main cabin, Sija realized that the ship was unnaturally quiet, especially given her crew. 

“Nik? Ashara?” Sija glanced into the cockpit and medbay before walking further into the ship. “Talos?”

Talos Drellik stepped out of the small conference room, nearly colliding with Sija and looking startled. “Ah, My Lord, welcome back!”

“What’s going on, Talos?” Sija tried to peer past him, but he blocked her view.

“Nothing, My Lord, definitely nothing secret, nothing that you need to worry about.” Talos coughed awkwardly and smiled.

“Yeah, okay, thank you Talos.” Sija placed her hands on Talos’s shoulders and gently guided him out of the doorway.

In the small conference room, Ashara and Andronikos were seated at the table with their heads close together, speaking in hushed tones. Sija crossed to the table, spun a chair around, and sat down, leaning her chest on the chairback. “Secrets? I _love_ secrets.”

“What? No you _don’t_.” Ashara muttered with disbelief before looking up at Sija. 

When they made eye contact, Sija tilted her head and grinned. Ashara jumped back, falling out of her chair and landing hard on the floor with an undignified noise. Sija turned her attention to Andronikos, who was able to recover his composure somewhat better than Ashara.

“You, uh, find out anything useful?”

“You two are lucky we don’t have time for whatever this is.” Sija gestures between Ashara and Andronikos before pressing a button on the intercom in the middle of the table. “Talos? Khem? I’ve got an announcement.”

Once the crew was assembled, Sija explained what she found in Thanaton’s library. “It seems two other Dark Lords put themselves in similar...situations to mine, with equally disastrous results. Sure would have been nice to have a warning about force-walking more than one ghost at a time. But, that’s irrelevant. We might find answers on Belsavis and Voss, if we can find out more about what happened to Darth Iratus and Darth Vilus.”

Zash, speaking from Khem Val’s mouth, volunteered to look into both planets for more information with Ashara’s help.

“Someone set a course for Korriban, I need to check in on Harkun and make sure he hasn’t killed all of the potential apprentices.” Sija pushed back in her chair and stood. “Someone wake me when we get there. Thank you all.”

As Sija crossed into her quarters, Andronikos caught her by the elbow. “Sith, wait, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

She turned to face him, waiting expectantly. Andronikos took Sija’s hands in his and smiled. “So, I’m not... _good_ at...whatever this is we’ve been doing, but we’ve been doing it for a while now, and you’re really important to me. And I want to know… Are we getting married, or what?”

Sija scoffed. “Didn’t think you were the type to get tied down. Well, not in _that_ sense, anyway.”

Andronikos rolled his eyes. “You’re not either, that’s why we’re so great together.”

“You’re only asking because you’re worried I’m dying.”

“Not true.” Andronikos pulled her closer to him. “Are you going to answer or not?”

“Fine. Marry me, before I change my mind.” Sija smirked and shook her head as Andronikos swept her into his arms to kiss her. “Yes, yes, very romantic. Now put me down and get us to Korriban.”

Andronikos grinned before gently releasing her from his arms. “On it.”

“Don’t tell me _that_ was the big secret?”

In response, Andronikos simply waggled his eyebrows before disappearing to plot their next course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	6. something about him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #17: "There's just something about him/her/them."  
> Starring: Mena, Vette, Sija  
> Featuring: Darth Arkous and Lana being dweebs, A7-M1 being adorable

Mena and Vette walk hand-in-hand through the Imperial Fleet, chatting absently. Vette is saying something about wanting to look at new armor plating that Mena misses because a small astromech droid has started following them, chirping insistently.

Turning to face the droid causes it to stop short and bump into her knees. It backs up and beeps apologetically, introducing itself as A7-M1 and stating that it has been looking for her, that she is a great hero of the Empire, and that its master Darth Arkous will be a great ally for her. It asks to patch Darth Arkous through with a message.

Vette sighs dramatically. Mena wrinkles her nose. 

“Go on then, I’ll catch up.” She turns back to the droid. “Put him through.”

An imposing-looking Sith Lord who she only vaguely recognizes appears on the droid’s holoprojector. He greets Mena as the Wrath, and calls her the “Last, most vital piece in my plan to shake the Republic to its very core,”

Mena watches, disinterested, as Arkous adds, “ It will be better to speak in person. I can promise you, together we will change the face of the galaxy-”

“My Lord,” Mena interrupts. “thank you, but…. _No_.” Mena offers a smile that is diplomatic, but shows her slightly fanged canines, and turns to leave before he can respond.

\--

Days later, Mena receives a letter from Sija about a holocall from Darth Arkous:

“Dear Mena,

I got the strangest call from Darth Arkous today, asking me to help him with some grand scheme. There is just something about Arkous. I’m going to meet with him, but I don’t trust him. Will you be my second?

Meeting details and coordinates attached.

-C.” 

_Oh hell yes_. Mena cackles quietly to herself.

\--

When Sija and Mena are escorted into the meeting location, Darth Arkous is mid-spiel about how amazing this is going to be. _This_ is _going to be amazing_ Mena thinks. A blonde woman standing with Arkous turns to them first, and she can’t quite hide her surprise at seeing both of them.

“I’m getting ahead of myself though. We’ve never properly met.” As Arkous turns to face them, he nearly chokes at seeing the Mena standing behind Sija.

The blonde rescues him, presenting Darth Arkous to his guests, introducing them with their formal titles as Darth Nox and the Emperor’s Wrath. Sija greets Arkous somewhat curtly and Mena offers a wicked grin.

Recovering himself, Arkous addresses Sija. “Yes, yes, a pleasure. As Minister of Military Offense, I have repeatedly enjoyed the fruits of your labor. And this is my most trusted advisor, Lana Beniko.”

“The value of a great mind cannot be measured. The Dark Council is no doubt all the better for your involvement.” Lana seems comfortable with Sija, like she is addressing an old friend rather than a Lord of the Dark Council she’s meeting for the first time.

“Perhaps we could discuss my finer qualities at some point in the future, under less formal circumstances.” If nothing else, accepting the title of Darth Nox has certainly made Sija more bold.

Mena coughs into her fist to disguise her laughter.

“Perhaps we could, Dark Lord, at some point.” Lana raises an eyebrow for only a fraction of an instant - maybe she is not even aware that she has done it - but neither Sija nor Mena misses it. She quickly moves on to discussing the details of the mission.

After showing them on a holomap where they will meet a shuttle to Tython, Lana tells Sija that she will be in constant contact with them once they reach the planet’s surface. Arkous cuts in over her to explain again how monumental of a blow this will be to the Republic before dismissing them.

As soon as they have cleared earshot of the room, Mena jumps at Sija, grabbing her around the waist. Sija tries unsuccessfully to squirm away from her.

“Mena, your behavior is most undignified for the Emperor’s Wrath!” Sija swats at Mena’s arms, but Mena launches herself onto Sija’s back, wrapping her limbs around her.

“I’ll show you ‘undignified.’ _We could discuss my finer qualities_ , my _stars_ , C, you’re terrible!” Mena throws her head back to laugh. “And she’s even worse! She wants to stay in _constant contact_ with you, huh?”

“Mena, we have a _mission_ , to take care of, remember? I need the Wrath, not whatever _this_ is.” Sija laughs despite herself, slipping her hands under Mena’s arms to loosen her grip and pry the small Sith off of her back.

“I’ll be the Wrath when we get to Tython. Until then, you have _me_ , and until then, we are going to work on what you’re going to say to Miss Beniko the next time we see her so you don’t embarrass yourself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	7. more than yourself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #23: "You can't give more than yourself."  
> Starring: Mission Vao, Bastila Shan, angst  
> Featuring: Mission and Bastila being soft and adorable and actually building a friendship? Friendship? In my Jedi Princess? It's more likely than you think!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (follow up to what I wrote for Prompt #20 on Day 4)

When Bastila finishes speaking, Mission takes her hands gently. “B… When are you gonna tell Revan?”

“How can I?” Bastila looks at the floor between them rather than meeting Mission’s eyes.

After a long pause, Mission stands, pulling at Bastila’s arms until she stands too. “C’mon, we’re gonna take a walk.”

Bastila follows in resignation as Mission leads her toward the ship’s exit ramp. As they pass HK-47 and Canderous in the work bay, the droid and the Mandalorian both look up, and Mission mutters something about getting air. The _Ebon Hawk_ is on the Rakatan world of Lehon, and when Mission and Bastila step off of the ramp, the night air is cool and crisp. Mission leads Bastila along the beach, past a number of Republic ships, until they reach a more secluded inlet. In the distance, troops can be heard still celebrating the recent victory over the Star Forge and the Imperial troops.

Mission sits on a large rock and pulls her boots and socks off, dangling her legs into the water. Bastila stands back from the water’s edge several feet, watching. Leaning back until she is looking at Bastila upside-down, lekku trailing against the sand, Mission motions for Bastila to join her. Bastila hesitantly removes her boots and socks, leaving them against a stump where the sand still seems dry, rolls up her pants legs, and pads out through the wet sand to the rock.

When Bastila eases down onto the rock beside her, Mission swings back upright. They sit in companionable silence for several moments, staring out across the water and enjoying the warmth of the surf against their legs.

Mission leans against Bastila. “Why can’t you tell her? You told me.”

Bastila looks down into her lap for a long moment, considering her words. “I failed her, Mission. I was meant to protect her from the dark side, and keep her safe. And then I was so...weak. I chose Malak over her, Mission. I did terrible things for him. The Republic nearly lost because of me. Revan could have died because of me.”

“You put a lot on yourself, you know that, right?” Mission looks hard at the side of Bastila’s face until Bastila returns her gaze. “Revan can look out for herself, and you’re not responsible for the entire Republic.”

“That’s very easy for you to say, Mission.”

“B, shut up, I’m not done.” Mission ignores Bastila’s look of indignation, and offers Bastila her hand, which she is too stunned not to take. “You can’t give her more than yourself. But you need to at least give her that.”

Bastila searches and fails to find a rebuttal several times before sighing in frustration and resting her head on Mission’s shoulder. They sit this way for a long time, until Mission begins to shiver against the night air. They collect their boots and walk shoulder to shoulder, barefoot and carrying their shoes. At the ramp, Bastila embraces Mission briefly before heading to the portside crew quarters to find Revan.

She is not ready to tell Revan everything yet, but maybe she can at least tell her why not, and that will at least be a start. She cannot give Revan more than herself, but she can at least give her that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	8. patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #24: "Patience is not something I'm known for."  
> Starring: My Jedi Consular/Barsen'thor/Alliance Commander (at least on one server), Kestrel Fortuna, Senya Tirall  
> Featuring: The whole f'ed up Royal Eternal Empire Family (at least in brief mentions)

Kestrel Fortuna hadn’t slept in days. Not for a lack of trying or wanting to sleep. She had thought that finally freeing herself from Valkorion would mean finally clearing her head again. But even though he wasn’t still present in her mind, he still haunted her with nightmares. 

When she closed her eyes, Kestrel was back in carbonite watching the repeating loop of her failures that Valkorion had played for her. Or she was in the mind-prison created by the Eternal Throne, facing Valkorion for the last time, but when Arcann and Vaylin appeared, Valkorion easily swayed them to fight against her. She _had_ murdered their father, and Vaylin herself - why wouldn’t they want revenge against her?

If she was honest with herself, there was another reason Kestrel hadn’t been sleeping. She was afraid. Falling asleep would mean letting her guard down, and letting her guard down would risk confirming something she had suspected ever since her battle with Vaylin.

Arcann had told her not to worry, that Vaylin wasn’t strong enough, that he didn’t sense his sister’s presence in the Commander. But Arcann was pretty willfully blind to a lot of things where his family was concerned. As she mused on Valkorion’s children, Kestrel paced the Alliance’s corridors. When she realized where she was, she laughed inwardly and sat against the door to Senya Tirall’s quarters.

Moments later, the door opened and Senya, having probably heard Kestrel’s footsteps approaching and not passing the doorway, stared down at Kestrel.

“Commander?” Senya leaned on the doorframe and raised an eyebrow.

Kestrel processed for longer than she probably should have before turning to look at Senya, and leaned back, taking her in quizzically. Senya in civilian clothes and with her hair out of its usual stern bun was a very different sight than Kestrel was used to. Kestrel tried to remember if she had ever seen Senya out of her Knight’s armor.

Senya cleared her throat. “Commander, did you need something?”

Kestrel pulled herself to her feet. “No, I’m sorry. I woke you, didn’t I? Sorry. I’ll go.”

Senya narrowed her eyes at the Commander and placed a hand on Kestrel’s arm before she could turn to leave. “You seem troubled. Why don’t you come in for a little while? Have some tea with me?”

Kestrel followed Senya into her sparse but cozy quarters, allowed herself to be led to a low couch in a nook with several plants she didn’t recognize. Kestrel sat while Senya busied herself making tea, humming to herself. When Senya returned to the couch she pushed a steaming mug into Kestrel’s hands.

“Commander, don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like hell.” Senya propped her feet on the table as she settled into the cushions. “Now are you going to tell me why you were skulking around outside my door?”

Kestrel looked sheepishly into her mug as she sipped her tea. “There’s something I should probably talk to you about, Senya. But I’m not sure if I’m ready yet.”

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, Commander, but patience is not something I’m really known for.” Senya smirked over the edge of her mug. “I’ll try to humor you though. Tell me what you can.”

Over the time it took to finish two mugs of tea each, Kestrel shared most of the details of her nightmares with Senya. When she was finished, Kestrel apologized. “Senya, I’m so sorry, you’re the last person I should have come to about this. He was your husband, and I-- I destroyed your family, I--”

“Commander, stop.” Senya turned to fully face Kestrel. “Things between us will always be complicated, there is no avoiding that. But you did not destroy my family - he did.”

Senya grasped Kestrel’s hands in her own. “Now then. I said before, you look terrible. When was the last time you slept?”

Kestrel shrugged noncommittally, eliciting a groan from Senya.

“Come here.” Senya turned again and held her arm out invitingly. 

Kestrel surprised herself with how quickly she moved forward to curl up with her head in Senya’s lap. Senya propped her feet back up on the table, and draped her arm protectively over Kestrel’s shoulder. With her free hand, Senya picked up a datapad from the table and scrolled slowly as she started to sing what sounded to Kestrel like it might have been a lullaby. Absently, Senya’s fingers stroked Kestrel’s lekku. While the intimate touch would normally have been off-putting for Kestrel, from Senya the gesture was motherly, and she relaxed into it.

As she drifted into a greyish half-sleep, Kestrel heard a quiet laugh in the recesses of her brain. _Tell Mother hello for me, Outlander_.

_Vaylin_. Kestrel thought quietly. _I’m glad to hear your voice again_.

The remark surprised them both into silence long enough for Kestrel to finally sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	9. you'll have to trust me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #10: "Listen, I can't explain it, you'll have to trust me."  
> Starring: Kestrel, Senya, Arcann  
> Featuring: Vaylin, Vette, Torian Cadera, THAT choice from KotFE, Major Character Death that Kestrel and I will never forgive ourselves for

Kestrel, Arcann, and Senya pause in a clearing so that Kestrel can pull her holocomm out of her pocket, requesting status updates before Vaylin’s arrival on Odessen’s surface. Vette flickers before her, the holographic Twi’lek crouching, obviously guarding wounds on her side. But she has been successful in taking out the artillery guns.

“They are _not_ happy about it, and I’m pinned down over here now.” Vette winces and grips her side tighter, ducking down as though trying to remain out of sight. “Gonna need some help.”

Torian’s grainy image cuts in over Vette. “Vette isn’t the only one in trouble. I’m the only one left and about to be overrun.”

“That’s great, Torian, but I’ve got about two minutes before they _squash me like a bug_.”

Before Kestrel can say anything to stop Torian and Vette from arguing, Valkorion interrupts her thoughts, appearing before her. _Even you can’t save everyone, Outlander. By choosing who shall live, you also choose who shall die. Are you ready for that burden?_

Kestrel can feel more than hear Valkorion’s laughter inside her head, and she grips the holocomm unit until she thinks it might crack. She can feel Arcann and Senya watching her, waiting for a response, and her voice sounds like someone else’s when she finally speaks. “Torian, we’re coming your way.”

“Thank you, Commander. I’ll hold my position until you arrive.”

As soon as Torian closes the channel, Vette’s voice comes back, quietly. “This is a joke, right? You--you’re abandoning me?”

“Vette--” Kestrel clenches her free fist until her knuckles turn white, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “Vette, you’re a _survivor_. You’ve walked away from _Vaylin_ before. As soon as we have Torian, we’re coming for you. Okay?”

Vette’s hologram shakes her head in resignation. “Yeah. Good luck, Commander.”

After Kestrel shoves the holocomm back into her pocket, Arcann puts a hand on her shoulder. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. I can’t explain it to you, you’re just going to have to trust me on this. Now we need to go - Torian needs us.”

\--

It does not take them long to cut a path to Torian’s location, but Senya and Arcann are both awed by Kestrel’s fury as she takes down Skytroopers and Knights. Briefly, Senya wishes she’d been able to train Kestrel back in her former life as a Knight-Captain on Zakuul. When they reach Torian, Senya quickly gets to work assessing his injuries while Arcann scans the area for any remaining troops.

Kestrel speaks into her comm unit. “Vette! Do you copy? We’ve got Torian. We’re coming for you now.”

“Wrong again, Outlander.”

Hearing Vaylin’s voice instead of Vette, Kestrel’s heart sinks and the color drains from her face. 

“I found the little Twi’lek, and now she’s all mine. I know I told you before that her coloring wasn’t right for my wall, but I may have reconsidered.”

“Vaylin, don’t hurt her.” Kestrel can’t keep her voice from wavering, and Senya places a warning hand on Kestrel’s arm.

“Hmmm…. No.” Vaylin laughs, and Kestrel hears a thud and a groan that is probably Vette being thrown against something solid. “You got me to Odessen, so let’s end this.”

“Let Vette go first. She’s of no consequence to you.”

“I think I’ll hold on to my little bargaining chip a little longer. I’m sending you a location. Meet me there.”

Vaylin closes the channel and Kestrel stands clenching and unclenching her fists until her comm unit beeps to indicate a message. Senya glances over at the location displaying on her wrist comm. “That’s--that’s the base!”

\--

As they run into the Alliance Base, heading toward the location Vaylin indicated, Kestrel can’t bring herself to look at any of the bodies littering the ground to see who else her actions have killed today. Stepping out of the elevator, she sees Vaylin, surrounded by Skytroopers. At first, Vette is nowhere to be seen, but Vaylin turns to face them, revealing Vette being held on her knees with a pike pointed at her back.

“If you’d waited much longer, I was going to have to snap your friend’s spine to amuse myself.” Vaylin pouted.

“Hey, do me a favor, Commander,” Vette speaks up from behind Vaylin. “Turn this yeahu'era into bantha fodder.”

“Let me speak to Father.” Vaylin ignores Vette’s taunt.

“You know it doesn’t work that way. Let Vette go.” Kestrel watches Vaylin’s hands for any sign of an attack toward Vette.

“What did he even see in you? Did he really think _you_ could take my throne?”

On cue, Valkorion appears behind Vaylin. Her eyes widen with an emotion that resembles, but doesn’t quite match, fear. _You are not worthy of the throne. You are not fit to rule the Eternal Empire_. 

“I deserve the throne more than your puppet does.” In a rage, Vaylin picks up Vette with the Force and flings her toward Kestrel.

Vette lands several feet from where Kestrel stands, so she rushes forward as Vette tries to scramble to her feet. As Vette pulls herself up onto her elbows, Kestrel kneels beside her, reaches out to help her. At the same time, Vaylin reaches out with the Force, wrapping an invisible hand around Vette’s neck, and twisting. Vette falls limp against Kestrel’s chest, and for a moment Kestrel stares down at her in disbelief. 

“You… you _monster_.” Kestrel’s voice cracks. She can hear Vaylin laughing, saying something about “can’t even protect your own people,” but her ears are starting to ring.

She can still hear Valkorion clearly. _There’s only one way to stop Vaylin. You know what you must do_.

Kestrel slowly stands, lifting Vette’s body, carries her to the nearby weapons modification station. As the closest raised flat surface, it will have to do for a bier for now. She turns back to Vaylin and ignites her polesaber, hears Senya and Arcann ignite their sabers behind her.

“We end this, Vaylin. _Now_.”

The fight does not last long. Senya and Arcann mostly dispatch Skytroopers while Vaylin and Kestrel wear each other down. Vaylin uses cheap tactics, but Kestrel is not afraid to stay tight in Vaylin’s personal space and make her rely on her lightsaber rather than her Force skills. 

The instant she has an opening, Kestrel drives one end of her saber up into Vaylin’s chest, through her heart. Vaylin’s short cry is one of anger more than anything. Kestrel’s scream is a mixture of anger, pain, sadness, frustration, and guilt, and it doesn’t end until a blast of purple energy causes their bodies to fall away from each other.

Arcann pulls Kestrel to her feet and drapes one of her arms over his shoulders to support her as he tries to lead her away to find wherever they’ve set up a medical or healing station. Kestrel looks frantically for Senya, and finding her realizes that she can’t speak so she just mouths _I’m so sorry_ over and over.

\--

In Doctor Oggurobb’s lab, where the Alliance has set up a triage center, Kestrel, Arcann, and Senya are all treated for relatively minor wounds before being cleared to leave. On the way out, Kestrel is told that Torian, who is being treated for more substantial wounds in the healing center that has been set up in the Force User’s Enclave, has asked for her.

Torian waves away the Voss who has been tending to him when Kestrel arrives. Before she can ask him how he’s doing, he holds up a hand.

“I know why you picked me, Commander.”

Kestrel tilts her head at Torian, waiting for further explanation.

“Darvannis, right? You didn’t have to do that. You _shouldn’t_ have done that, Commander. But thank you. I’m gonna make it up to you.” 

Kestrel closes her eyes and slowly releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

“Go save the galaxy, Commander. Re'turcye mhi.” Torian offers Kestrel his hand, which she gladly takes, gripping tightly.

“Re’turcye mhi, Torian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeahu'era = “bitch” in Ryl  
> re’turcye mhi = pretty standard Mando’a goodbye, “until we meet again”
> 
> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	10. didn't ask for this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #4: "I know you didn't ask for this."  
> Starring: Andronikos, Mena, Lana, Sija  
> Featuring: Andronikos being lovesick, drunk, and desperate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in the version where Sija is the Outlander/Alliance commander and takes place while Sija is missing.

**Sender:** Andronikos Revel

 **Subject:** [No Subject]

Lana,

Please tell me you know something. You don’t like me, I don’t like you, but we both love her. I don’t feel all that Force nonsense, but I _know_ that she’s not dead. No one will tell me a damn thing though. 

If you know anything, you _have_ to tell me.

\--

 **Sender:** Andronikos Revel

 **Subject:** [No Subject]

Lord Wrath,

Fuck, that sounds stupid.

Mena,

You’re her best friend. No one on your stupid Dark Council with talk to me. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been thrown out of the damn Citadel. Even Lana won’t talk to me. Somebody has to know _something_. Please. I know she’s not dead.

Do your Wrath thing; make someone help me find her.

\--

 **Sender:** Andronikos Revel

 **Subject:** fuck you

Lana,

Don’t be a bitch. I know you didn’t ask for this, but I also know that you know something.

Just _tell me_.

\--

 **Sender:** Andronikos Revel

 **Subject:** sorry

lana,

im drukn. that last one was to much. im sorry. jsut _help_ me. please.

\--

 **Sender:** [Withheld]

 **Subject:** [No Subject]

L,

I know you felt it too, when Marr died, and then when whatever happened to C happened. I know you’re looking for her - you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t. I know you’re getting A’s letters too. I’m sorry about him. He really does love her, you know. We’ll both do anything to get her back.Tell us what we can do to help you - anything, just say the word - and we’ll be there.

I remain the Empire’s, but in this instance, I am _your_ Wrath.

\--

 **Sender:** [Withheld]

 **Subject:** [No Subject]

Lord Wrath,

I shouldn’t share this, but I thought you should see something I intercepted:

 **"Sender:** Andronikos Revel

 **Subject:** Blast it, where are you?

None of your Council friends will speak to me, and they grounded the _Fury_. Whole capital’s in chaos. Rumors flying everywhere. Look, neither of us likes to be clingy, but you can’t pull a disappearing act and not expect me to worry. We’re a team.

I’m not a sentimental guy, you know this, but if something’s happened to you...I don’t think I can go back to my old life. Used to feel like relationships were nothing but dead weight. All I wanted was to fly free, no attachments. But what we have together--I wouldn’t give that up for anything.

I know you’re alive. It would take more than an explosion to kill my girl. Even a really big one. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll commandeer a shuttle to find you myself."

She’s not dead. I’m looking for her harder than I’ve ever looked for anything in my life. I don’t have time to deal with him.

I’m going to find her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks. The letter Lana intercepted is the in-game letter Andronikos sends the Inquisitor if you romance him.)


	11. follow me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #2: "Just follow me, I know the area."  
> Starring: Female (Cognizant) Revan (you've seen her several times before, but no one has said her name until this fic: Ariadne “Ria” Khandar), Bastila Shan  
> Featuring: angst and fluff, references to past Revalek
> 
> (same universe as all the other Revastila trash I've written, but standalone)

Revan blinked against the setting sun as she and Bastila emerged from the ruins. The datapad in her hands with the first piece of the map to the Star Forge still felt warm, almost alive. Looking over at Bastila, she expected to see a mirror of her own excitement. Instead, Bastila’s face was set in a look of frustrated contemplation. Revan bumped their shoulders together, causing Bastila’s frown to deepen further.

“We should get back to the Council and tell them what we found.” Bastila met Revan’s eyes briefly, allowing her face to relax into a more neutral state, before she turned her gaze back to the path ahead.

They walked in relative silence, avoiding small groups of kinrath and kath hounds. When they approached the path that would take them to the Enclave though, Revan stopped short, looking contemplatively at Bastila. Where a slight left turn would take them over a bridge and into the Enclave grounds, Revan instead doubled back into the open field they had just crossed. She stood at the center of it, scanning the short cliffs that lined the meadow.

Bastila joined Revan, mild irritation showing on her face, but concern seeping through their Force bond. “Ria? What is it?”

In lieu of an answer, Revan grasped Bastila’s hand and took off at a jog toward a small gap in the cliff wall that she had spotted.

“Ria, where are we going?” Bastila tried to sound displeased, but it came out more flustered than anything.

“Just follow me.” Revan released Bastila’s hand as they reached the gap in the natural wall and she started to squeeze between the rocks and find footholds to climb. “I want to show you something. I promise you, I know where I’m going.”

Bastila’s face betrayed her piqued interest, and she almost smiled. Revan felt a flash of needling anxiety through their bond and tried to think if the memory of this place was something the Council had agreed to let “Ria” keep or not. She shook the thought from her head as she turned to scale the rest of the distance up onto a flat grassy expanse overlooking the Enclave. When Revan helped Bastila over the edge and stepped back to let her take it in, Bastila gasped quietly.

“Oh, _Force_ , it’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”

Revan marvelled at Bastila, finally relaxed enough to smile, hair limned in sunlight. She croaked out a quiet noise of agreement. Before Bastila could sense her growing embarrassment, Revan walked forward to sit on the edge of the cliff, looking out at the Enclave. After a moment, Bastila sat beside her, not quite near enough to touch. Two brith drifted lazily past them, their mossy-colored fins iridescent in the fading light.

The longer she sat in such close proximity to Bastila, the more Revan felt like a youngling with a schoolgirl-crush again. Between them, their hands were nearly centimeters apart, and on the soft breeze Revan could smell Bastila’s hair. She wanted to touch it, to tuck away the strands that seemed to always fly loose from the ties that held it back. Without realizing it, Revan leaned closer to Bastila, watching her lips, considering turning Bastila’s chin to kiss her.

Under Revan’s scrutiny, Bastila turned to face her of her own accord, startling Revan with their closeness. Bastila’s eyes flicked between Revan’s lips and her eyes before settling on her mouth, and a warm blush crept up Bastila’s neck and covered her cheeks.

Suddenly struck by the memory of kissing Malak on the same bluffs, back before he _was_ Malak, Revan sat back, the moment soured. “We should head back.”

Their walk back to the Enclave was silent, but Revan noticed that Bastila kept a small smile for the entire walk. More than that, Revan could feel--and almost see--their bond in the Force, a bright string wrapped around both of their hearts, comfortably taut between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	12. your point?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #6: "Yes, I'm aware. Your point?"  
> Starring: My Imperial Agent, Raz, Kaliyo Djannis  
> Featuring: Dr Eckard Lokin, Hunter, sass, the importance of names

Kaliyo was proud to see the Cipher Agent she’d been working with show Ardun Kothe no mercy after everything he and his crew had done, but even she had to admit that turning a set of defense turrets on him and watching stone-faced as they blasted him into oblivion was cold.

“You good, Agent?”

Raz ignored Kaliyo’s question. “We can’t leave the Shadow Arsenal here. Ardun Kothe is dead, but those missiles are too dangerous to just leave sitting in this warehouse.”

“Give me just a few minutes and I can find us a buyer; we’ll be rich.” Kaliyo flashed a smile that Raz missed, distracted by Hunter’s holographic image appearing on the terminal over Kaliyo’s shoulder.

“Cipher! Imperial again, huh? And no more programming. That’s unfortunate - I was finished with the SIS angle, but I had plans for you. Roam the galaxy together, me the captain, you my slave.” Hunter put on a smile that had probably worked as seductive on targets who knew nothing about him.

“Hunter, you’re probably the most vile man I’ve ever met. The thought of traveling with you makes my skin crawl.”

“Aw, we don’t have time to flirt now, Cipher. Big changes are coming. History is going to forget Imperial Intelligence and Republic SIS, and it’s sure as shit gonna forget you. Oh, and I just tipped off a squadron of Imperial bombers about the Shadow Arsenal. That little facility you’re standing in is about to be leveled. Shame, really.”

As the holoterminal cut off, the bombs started dropping.Fortunately, on the way in, they had cleared out most of the facility’s guard droids, and any they hadn’t were occupied with the chaos of the bombing. But the Imperial bomber squadron did not make their escape easy. Near the exit, Raz heard the whistle of falling artillery close behind them, shoved Kaliyo ahead of her, and launched herself onto the prone Rattataki. Kaliyo cursed in what Raz thought might have been Kaleesh as shrapnel flew past them, but because Raz had thrown them into the exit tunnel, most of the debris missed them. Without waiting for the dust to settle, and still cursing, Kaliyo pulled them both to their feet and resumed running.

When they had put several buildings between themselves and the arsenal, Raz rounded the corner of one of them and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. Kaliyo stopped short and turned to look at her. There was blood on the right side of Raz’s face, and when Kaliyo reached up to move Raz’s hair on that side it revealed that not all of the shrapnel had missed her.

“Come on, Agent, let’s get back to the ship while you’ve still got some adrenaline.”

Back at the _Phantom_ , Kaliyo led Raz to the medbay. Doctor Lokin moved to address Raz’s head injury, but Kaliyo glared at him.

“Let me handle this one, Doc.”

Lokin looked at Kaliyo appraisingly. “Kaliyo, maybe you’ve forgotten, but I am the one with medical training.”

“Yeah, and maybe you’ve forgotten, but I’m the one with a gun.”

“Both of you just shut up.” Raz said sharply. “Doctor Lokin, thank you, but I would like for Kaliyo to handle this. I’ll let you know if we need you.”

After Lokin stepped out, Raz gingerly began picking pieces of metal out of her right arm. “I liked this jacket, too.”

“You’re a fucking _idiot_ , you know that, right, Agent?” Kaliyo held Raz’s hair away from her face to inspect the cut above her ear. There didn’t seem to be any metal imbedded there - it had just grazed her but bled significantly. Kaliyo dabbed at the cut with a kolto-soaked pad.

“Yes, I’m aware. What’s your _point_?” Raz stopped picking at her arm to look up at Kaliyo.

“My _point_ is that you’re gonna get killed. You don’t question your loyalty to the Empire, and you should. You keep saying yes to things you haven’t thought through. You keep picking fights without caring if there’s a chance you’re gonna win.” As she spoke, Kaliyo continued to inspect and clean Raz’s injuries, moving on to her neck and shoulder.

“Dying isn’t the part that worries me, Kaliyo. There are far worse things that could happen to me.”

Kaliyo stopped and stepped back. “I’m not too keen on you dying, Raz.”

Raz blinked. She had been called “Agent,” “Cipher,” “Legate,” - how long had it been since anyone had used her name? She sat in silence while Kaliyo finished debriding and bandaging her wounds, deeper in thought than she wanted to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	13. chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #22: "We could have a chance."  
> Starring: Raz, Watcher Two, Watcher Three, angst  
> Featuring: Me making myself sad (whoops), mentions of brainwashing, genetic engineering, and assholes getting their comeuppance in violent ways

Raz sighed as she stepped out onto the balcony of the modest apartment she kept on Dromund Kaas. She leaned into the railing before sitting, with her legs dangling out over the open air and the shuttle traffic below. Her holocom, wrist comm unit, and earpiece had all been chirping at her since she left Imperial Intelligence Headquarters, but she didn’t care - she needed a few moments alone to process what had just happened before she moved on.

She leaned back until she was lying supine on the smooth surface of the balcony. With her collection of native potted plants, it was almost like being out in the Kaas jungles, aside from the concrete beneath her. Closing her eyes against the rain, she ran through the events that had led her here.

Entering the conference room, the first thing Raz had noticed was how drawn and tired Watcher Two - no, _Keeper_ , it was still so weird to think of her as “Keeper,” when she had been Raz’s Watcher for so long - looked. She had looked paler and more tired every time Raz had seen her; when had she slept last? The Watchers in the room were also drawn-looking. The whole team looked like ghosts and moved almost mechanically.

Raz shivered involuntarily, remembering her skin crawling at seeing and hearing Hunter in the holoconference. But then, something had changed in the room. At the beginning of the conference, Keeper and the Watchers had been commenting about the participants, the datastream, and the content. When had the room gone so silent? When had Keeper’s eyes gone so glassy? 

When Watcher Three had entered the room behind Keeper, spoken softly behind her, it was almost like he had broken a spell. Keeper had cried out, almost as if in pain. Simultaneously with Keeper, Watchers Six, Seven, and Nine had fallen to the floor, completely limp and for the world looking lifeless. Raz had leapt forward, catching Keeper on her way down, doing everything in her power to keep her terror off her face and out of her voice as she told Watcher Three to lock everything down without taking her eyes off Keeper’s face.

After the room had been cleared, Keeper and the Watchers taken away for medical attention, Watcher Three had given Raz a grim status update - they were on life support, Fixers speculated that their genetically-enhanced brains had allowed them to recognize something overlaid in the transmission designed to shut them down. Raz knew she should ask about next steps, about how that kind of trap could be hidden in the recording, but she had only been able to think about whether or not Keeper would be okay.

Raz didn’t know what she had expected to hear, but Watcher Three’s cold answer - that Keeper and the Watchers were “vegetables,” that there was no way of knowing how long they would be that way - had cut her. Raz hadn’t specifically asked him about Keeper’s condition, had phrased her question carefully to be about all of them; but Watcher Three was good at his job and knew Raz’s specific concern. She couldn’t help but dwell on his choice of words - “losing this many analysts, forget about Keeper” - before he had moved on to the impact on the war effort.

Forget about Keeper.

_Forget about Keeper. Not like we have a chance, anyway._

Raz’s cheeks felt hot, and she realized she had started crying. She was thankful for the ever-present Dromund Kaas rain. That probably hadn’t been how Watcher Three had meant it (even if he certainly knew about the torch Raz carried for Keeper), but Raz promised herself she would _not_ forget Keeper - she would go to Voss, find out what Keeper’s brilliant mind had pieced together there, and find a way to fix what had happened to Keeper and the Watchers.

Most importantly though, as Raz stood up and leaned on the balcony railing, looking out at the city skyline toward Imperial Intelligence, she swore to track down Hunter and _shoot him in his ugly shit-eating face_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	14. might just kiss you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #5: "I might just kiss you."  
> Starring: Mena, Sija, Lana, Jaesa

Sija was ready to head to her quarters on the new Alliance Base on Odessen when she got an alert on the comm unit on her wrist that Lana needed her in the War Room. Sighing, she entered the elevator and braced herself. She’d been running on adrenaline for days, and her supply was thinning. She had to quickly hide a look of surprise at seeing nearly all of the Alliance members gathered in the small cavern that constituted the War Room as she crossed to Lana.

“What is all of this?” Sija whispered through gritted teeth.

“Your first speech as Alliance Commander.” The tiniest hint of a smile showed at the corner of Lana’s mouth. “And before you ask, there was no vote, it’s just how it is - everyone knows it, and they have since you arrived here. We’re just making it...official now.”

“Don’t you hate titles?”

“I hate having one, but I do love granting them.” Lana’s smile appeared in earnest. “Now guide your Alliance to greatness, Commander.”

Sija stepped up to face the members of her Alliance, took a deep breath, and spoke to them of the losses they had faced, the adversity they had overcome, her personal appreciation for each of them, and her faith that their Alliance would prevail. As much as she hated speaking to crowds, she must have done something right - the mass of soldiers, scientists, mercenaries, and more gathered before her erupted into cheers when she was finished speaking. She turned back to Lana, who gently gripped her arm.

“You did wonderfully, darling.” Lana offered another small smile. “I have one more surprise for you, and this one I think you’ll _actually_ like.”

When Lana led Sija to her quarters, Sija was alarmed to see two figures sitting on the bed. Before she could determine who either of them were, one of them stood up, and with a short running start, launched herself from the raised platform the bed sat upon. Atmena Jenkari’uul, the Empire’s Wrath, landed hard against Sija, wrapping all four of her limbs around Sija’s body, causing her to stagger backward.

From behind Sija, Lana threw her arms up, keeping Sija from completely losing her balance. “I’ve got you!”

“Mena?!” Sija asked incredulously as she laced her arms around the diminutive Sith clinging to her. Glancing up at the bed, she locked eyes with Jaesa Willsaam, who waved meekly.

Mena buried her face in Sija’s neck, her brow ridges scraping Sija’s skin uncomfortably. “Oh, fuck, C, it’s really you, isn’t it?” Mena pulled back to look at Sija and disentangled her limbs to climb down.

The small Sith turned her attention to Lana, lurching forward to wrap her arms tightly around her before Lana could object with anything other than a soft grunt of surprise. “Lana, you did it, you really found her. Oh, I might just kiss you!”

“I would rather prefer if you didn’t.” Lana murmured, feeling out of breath from the tightness of Mena’s hug.

“Seconded.” Sija and Jaesa said in unison. 

“You’re all no fun.” Mena pretended to pout as she loosened her grip enough that Lana was able to extract herself from the embrace.

Jaesa rose from the bed and crossed the room to stand behind Mena, pulling the Wrath up against her chest and wrapping her arms around Mena’s waist. “Mena, we should let Sija rest. I’m sure you’ll get time to catch up with her later.”

Mena sighed, but nodded, relenting. “C, if you want to find us, we’re staying with the smugglers - sorry, traders of rare and unusual goods. They seemed like they would be the most fun. And they’re the least afraid of me.” Mena raised herself onto her tiptoes to kiss Sija’s cheek before allowing Jaesa to lead her out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	15. not always like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #11: "It's not always like this."  
> Starring: Raz, Watcher Two  
> Featuring: Possible poor decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really need to re-write this. I've already re-written it about 20 times, but it needs to be re-written about 20 more times.

Watcher Two is usually so good at analyzing situations; even Keeper has marvelled at the speed at which her brain could process through calculations and puzzles. But she is currently stumped. Closing her eyes, she begins to backtrack through the day’s events to make sense of them.

\--

A conference at Imperial Intelligence with herself, Keeper, her new Agent, and Darth Jadus on the holo. The terror cell’s plot to take down the power grid through an attack on the Dark Temple. Keeper’s carefully laid-out plan for a strike team and Jadus’s demand that only a single Agent would enter the Temple, a pointed look at the Agent seated across from Watcher Two. She doesn’t remember if she was able to hide the pained look of surprise in response to the Agent’s glib, “I love a good suicide mission.”

She does remember glaring at Keeper’s nonchalant offer to make arrangements if the Agent died in the Dark Temple, and she remembers assuring the Agent that she would monitor her progress for as long as possible, and wishing her luck.

“If I survive, you’re buying drinks.” The Agent said with a grin, red eyes glowing mischievously. 

“It’s a deal.” Had the Agent caught the blush that crept onto Watcher Two’s face? Keeper had, if his glower was any indication.

And amazingly, the Agent _had_ survived the Dark Temple, but Watcher Two had barely been able to spare a moment of focus to welcome her back to Headquarters, having to focus all of her attention on sorting through reports spilling in about the explosion on Darth Jadus’s flagship, the _Dominator_ , on calculating the probability that any of the 3000 crew members had survived. Things had moved too quickly for Watcher Two to properly process the loss of life, for her to react to the Agent’s concern for her or to Keeper’s anger at her and Watcher Three. _Do your job, run the numbers_. She had almost missed Keeper sending the Agent off to sabotage the terrorists’ ship at the spaceport, and hadn’t had time to wish her luck.

She hadn’t needed it, of course. After the Agent’s success and the Eagle’s broadcast to all of the Empire had given them enough starting data on the various terrorist cells scattered through Imperial space, Keeper informed the Agent of her advancement: she was to become Cipher Nine.

“Watcher Two will remain your liaison to base.” Keeper looked stonily at Watcher Two, “I _assume_ that won’t be a problem?”

To her credit, Watcher Two only blanched for an instant before responding. “No, no problem, sir.”

Watcher Two dived right back into her work, as Keeper had directed, until Cipher Nine stopped by her station. Her new title was odd, but fitting, and Watcher Two told her as much. Cipher Nine asked her how she was holding up, a question Watcher Two wouldn’t have expected from her other colleagues. 

“I’m honestly not sure. All this with the _Dominator_... It shook me.” Watcher Two rubbed her temples. “Strange to think that I could torture a colleague without feeling anything, but three thousand dead strangers is too much for me to handle.”

Cipher Nine tilted her head forward and raised her eyebrows with concern. “Hold on, _who_ did you torture?”

“It was before your time, and it had to be done. Don’t worry about it.” Watcher Two deflected, changing the subject. “It’s been a long day. I’m sure you’re exhausted, and I’ve still got to send off these reports.”

“You still owe me drinks though.” When had Cipher Nine stepped so close?

“I do?” Watcher Two looked at her quizzically.

‘You do.” Cipher Nine nodded and smiled. “I survived the Dark Temple. You promised. _And_ I got promoted.”

“I do.” Watcher Two allowed herself to smile softly. “I also _do_ need to finish these reports though.”

“So finish them, and then join me at my new ship, and we’ll celebrate.” Cipher Nine squeezed one of Watcher Two’s hands before turning to leave Headquarters.

Watcher Two stood dumbly in place for a moment before turning back to her station to compile her reports as quickly as she could.

And that was how Watcher Two had ended up at Cipher Nine’s _Phantom_ , carrying a small bottle of Hull Stripper, acquired from a probably less-than-reputable vendor on the way to the spaceport. A cheerful droid identifying itself as 2V-R8 let her onto the ship and asked her to remove her shoes before venturing any further in. 

2V-R8 offered a supporting arm to Watcher Two as she unzipped her boots and set them against the wall. She slipped off her gloves and laid them over her boots before allowing the droid to lead her into the main cabin of the ship. Cipher Nine leaned against the doorway to what Watcher Two assumed were her quarters, dressed down very casually and making Watcher Two suddenly very self-conscious in her crisp uniform. Cipher Nine beckoned to Watcher Two before disappearing into the room. Watcher Two entered the room to find Cipher Nine sitting on the bed, and had to hide a slight startle response at the protocol droid quietly sliding the door shut behind her. The Cipher Agent patted the comforter beside her, and Watcher Two joined her, offering the bottle she had brought.

“Hull Stripper?” Cipher Nine read the bottle’s label dubiously.

“It’s the drink of choice for initiations in Intelligence, on my honor.” Watcher Two held a hand over her heart.

Cipher Nine tipped the bottle in Watcher Two’s direction. “You first.”

“I’m not the one being initiated, Cipher. Nor am I the one being celebrated.”

“My ship, my rules.” Cipher Nine grinned. “Drink.”

“Fine.” Watcher Two took the bottle back, twisting the cap off, put it to her lips, and took a deep swig, wincing slightly as she swallowed before she handed it back to Cipher Nine. “Satisfied?”

“Yes.” Cipher Nine kept eye contact with Watcher Two as she pulled from the bottle, but her face contorted into a grimace as she swallowed, twisting the cap back in place and putting the bottle on the floor with a sneer.

Watcher Two couldn’t help but laugh at the Cipher, as the agent flopped onto her back on the bed. She turned to study Cipher Nine’s face and felt the Cipher’s hand against her own, tugging at her until Watcher Two laid back with her. Watcher Two rolled onto her side to face Cipher Nine, sighed deeply before closing her eyes.

\--

“Watcher? Still with me?”

Watcher Two hums an affirmative and nods before she opens her eyes. Cipher Nine has rolled onto her side as well, now facing Watcher Two and leaning her chin on one of her fists.

“Cipher--”

“Raz.” Cipher Nine interrupts. Seeing a look of mild confusion on Watcher Two’s face, she continues. “You can call me ‘Raz.’ At least while we’re here. At least while it’s like this.”

Raz reaches up to trace her fingers along Watcher Two’s jawline.

Watcher Two parts her lips slightly, ready to speak. _Shara_. Her name rests on her tongue, but doesn’t come out of her mouth with her slow exhalation. “It’s not always like this, though, Cipher.”

“I know the risks.” Raz leans closer, fingers still on Watcher Two’s chin. “Leave or stay, Watcher?”

“Stay, please.” Watcher Two closes the distance between them, sighing against Raz’s lips and sliding a hand against the back of Raz’s neck to dig her fingers into the mess of short hair.

Watcher Two is usually so good at analyzing situations, but this time she is stumped. This time, she’s not sure she cares.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	16. wait for me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #27: "Can you wait for me?"  
> Starring: My Idiot Avocado smuggler, Zuvi, Corso Riggs  
> Featuring: Himbos, canon-typical blaster violence, trash-talking each other out of love

“Corso!” Zuvi could barely hear herself yell, much less think over the sound of her blasters. “Corso, where _are_ you?”

Zuvi ducked down into cover and scanned the beach for signs of Corso. He had been right behind her a moment ago, hadn’t he? What was he doing, _sight-seeing_? She swore in a mixture of Basic and Mirialan as blaster bolts whizzed through her hair, not quite scorching her scalp but coming way too close for comfort as she rolled to cover behind a taller rock.

_Fucking Corso_. Zuvi thought as she peered out from behind the jagged rock for an instant to get a headcount on the closest mob of Separatists. Six of them. _Fucking Viidu. Fucking Skavak. All I want is my_ ship, _damn it._

She holstered her blasters and dug her fingers into crevices on the rock in front of her, bouncing on her toes before launching herself up on top of it and quickly drawing both weapons as she landed hard on her chest. Zuvi had knocked most of the breath out of herself, but she still liked her advantage of height and surprise over the Separatists and risked wasting the breath she had left in her to laugh as they fell under her fire.

“Captain! You okay?” Corso fired a single dead-eyed shot through the forehead of the one Separatist Zuvi had missed as she rolled off the rock to land with a thud in the wet sand, throwing her arms up to protect her head, completely empty of breath and gasping.

After coughing to regain her breath, Zuvi raised herself up onto one elbow and wiped the back of her other hand across her mouth, scowled when her hand came away with dark blue blood against the deep green of her skin and spat. “I am just _great_ , Riggs, but would you like to tell me what shiny thing was so important you nearly let me get my head shot off?”

Corso dug a booted toe into the sand and sucked air through his teeth before answering. “I did ask you to wait, you know. Why can’t you just wait for me?”

Zuvi tossed her head back in exasperation. “Corso, you didn’t answer the question.”

He leaned forward to offer Zuvi a hand, pulled her to her feet. As he did, he reached into his pocket and removed a small, whitish stone with tiny, fragile-looking fractal shapes branching off of it.

“A _rock?!_ ”

“Ehhhhh, it’s not _just_ a rock, Captain, trust me, it’s gonna clean up real pretty.” Corso held the fulgurite up in the light, admiring it, distracting himself enough that he almost didn’t jump back in time to avoid the kick Zuvi aimed at his shin.

“Can we _please_ just go get my ship now?” Zuvi turned to start up the hill again, muttering under her breath as she went. “I _really_ need to shoot someone; let’s make sure it’s not gonna be _you_.”

Corso slipped the stone back into his pocket and jogged after Zuvi. “You know it ain’t gonna be _me_ , Captain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (This adventure inspired by the near-catastrophe Zuvi encountered during the “Cutting Off the Head” Heroic Mission on Ord Mantell, wherein you have to kill a bunch of savrips. Savrips can do a sav-smash, which launches you back several meters. If you’re not paying attention and have yourself positioned like an idiot, you get sav-smashed directly into a new mob. This happened to Zuvi in such a way that she aggro’d FOUR MOBS OF SAVRIPS AT ONCE. Luckily, they’re not suuuuuuuper hard to kill, but Corso was nowhere to be found and when I yelled “Corso! Where the fuck are you?” my wife responded “Lookin’ at pretty rocks :)” and I was like “uhhhh, probably!” Thus, you get this.)
> 
> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


	17. with you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #30: "I'm with you, you know that."  
> Starring: Revan, Bastila  
> Featuring: Fluff and angst (what else?)

Neither Bastila nor Revan wants to participate in any of the pomp or ceremony the Jedi Order arranges days after the battle is over, after troops have been gathered and accounted for on the surface of Lehon. Revan doesn’t want to be the Order’s new “prodigal knight” poster child, and Bastila doesn’t want her Battle Meditation lauded when it was used for both sides. None of the _Ebon Hawk_ ’s crew likes the spotlight and the attention, except maybe HK-47. They go where they are told, stand, wave, smile, shake hands. But Revan stays close to Bastila, keeps a hand at the small of her back or an arm draped over her shoulders if she feels Bastila’s anxiety creeping up - which is often. Revan is not afraid to say _We only completed our mission because we had each other_ when a young soldier asks how things really went down on the Star Forge - and inwardly she enjoys watching the veins pulsing out on the foreheads of the Masters who overhear.

When Revan feels Bastila’s anxiety through their bond closing light a fist tight around her heart, she steers conversation with Master Vandar toward Juhani, who has been standing awkwardly on the edge of the small group of soldiers and Jedi. With the group sufficiently distracted, Revan wrapped Bastila’s hand in her own and led her away from the clearing at the base of the temple where the Republic had set up the festivities. They weave past Republic tents and ships, avoiding as many of the soldiers as possible, and through a winding rocky path. It isn’t until their feet hit the wet sand of the beach that Revan feels Bastila’s panic start to reside.

In the moonlight, Bastila’s skin has a silvery glow and Revan watches as she sits in the sand with a huff. The Bastila Revan met so long ago would _never_ have willingly sat in damp sand, especially in dress robes the Council had forced her to wear. Revan eases down beside Bastila and gently rests her wrist on her knee with her hand extended, palm up, between them, open but without expectation. She smiles when Bastila’s hand slides back into her own.

After a few moments of sitting in relative silence, surrounded by the sound of waves rolling lazily against the beach and nighttime wildlife moving in the distance, Revan speaks. “What do you need, Bas? How can I help you?”

Bastila stares out over the water before answering, her eyes losing their color in the moonlight. “Just this. Mission actually gave me some really good advice. She told me that I can’t give you any more than myself, but I ought to give you at least that.”

Revan wants to ask about Bastila having talked with Mission before her, but she bites her tongue and waits for Bastila to continue.

“I’m not ready for you to hear it all. I don’t know when I will be. But I am ashamed of how easy it was for him to break me. I need you to know that I love you, but I willingly picked him over you, over the Jedi, over the Republic. He… unlocked something in me. I don’t know how you can trust me anymore.”

Revan gives Bastila’s hand a soft squeeze. “Bastila, you have darkness in you. You embraced it. So what? You walked back from it. I was Darth Revan, Lord of the Sith. I walked away from that.”

“Because Malak destroyed your ship and I ran you through with a lightsaber.” Bastila sneered.

Revan rolled her eyes. “Both true. But I kept walking away from it, and from the Jedi every day since then. I”ve just been walking after you, Bastila. I’m with you, you have to know that by now.”

“Revan, I just told you that I betrayed you.” When Bastila turns to look at Revan, she is blinking back both confusion and tears.

“I know that, Bastila. I told you already that I forgive you. It’s never going to be easy, and we’re going to have to actually talk about things, but Bastila, _I’m with you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (All characters in these works except OCs belong to EA/BioWare/the StarWars folks)


End file.
